


2 Samuel 24:16

by spellitwithyourpeas



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Matt dealing with the events of the season finale, Religious Undertones, sorta a dream sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:37:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7200191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellitwithyourpeas/pseuds/spellitwithyourpeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t the danger or even the rush of blood, the heat, he got when fighting along her side that made her so attractive. Every fiber of his being sang true to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2 Samuel 24:16

She wasn’t a heartless creature, contrary to many first impressions.

Her heart beat and it _ached._

He could hear it in her voice. Desire and pride laced with longing.

She oozed confidence. Breathed power and exhaled control. She never broke easily, but there was some fragility in her make up.

A shudder in her being.  

She was never truly cold and unfeeling. He wouldn’t have described her as that. She was scorching red. Fire that burned ever bright. A pulse that was always steady.

Always strong. The definition of vitality.

They were electric, the pair of them. Formidable. Stripped to their bare nature- she tugged him closer to an uncomfortable choice, as he pulled her to a light she could never bear to let in.

Forgiveness and renewal.

She had a way of getting under his skin. She took root and made herself comfortable in the dark. Dormant during those ten years, but hearing her “ _Hello Matthew”,_ so poised and playful….he could hear the match being struck. 

The hearth warm and inviting once again.

It wasn’t the danger or even the rush of blood, the heat, he got when fighting along her side that made her so attractive. Every fiber of his being sang true to her.

It was her insatiable lust for freedom. That she had invited _him_ into her world and smiled when he matched her pace. There was a thrill to running with her-even till the end.

The hold she had on him still felt blasphemous.

The closest he came to replicating it was in his dreams.

Deep in sleep, he hears the quiet step of bare her feet as she walks up to the bed. Feels the sheets crush beneath her as she crawls to him and hovers above him. Smells the faintest trace of orchid. His senses betray him and for a moment the memory of holding her in his arms is a mere nightmare and not the tragedy that it was.

The words hang on a breath. He feels them, cool, against his cheek.

_This is not the end._

He reaches up, to trace her lips, but she crumbles and fades before he touches her.

She is the subject of his prayers when he wakes.

_Father, forgive me._

_Mary, Mother of God, keep her soul._

In the night, she runs with him still. A ghost at his side. A second set of eyes. A swift knife in the shadows. She is the merciful whisper that competes over the sound of his own heartbeat ringing in his ears. Every night, when he wavers on the brink of crossing over the line that defined him. He hears her voice.

So clear and full of adoration and light. “ _Ah, Saint Matthew ‘It is enough; now stay thy hand’._

And he feels a gentle pressure, guiding his clenched fist back down to his side.

_This is not the end._

**Author's Note:**

> So the phrase “Stay thy hand” popped up when writing this and it just felt right and that came, as the title says haha, 2 Samuel 24:16
> 
> “ And when the angel stretched out his hand toward Jerusalem to destroy it, the LORD repented Him of the evil, and said to the angel that destroyed the people: 'It is enough; now stay thy hand.’ And the angel of the Lord was by the threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite.”
> 
> Thanks for reading! Find me on [tumblr](http://lightofpage.tumblr.com/)


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